


a very good year

by Lake (beyond_belief)



Category: Begin Again (2013 Carney)
Genre: Family, Multi, Music, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 07:09:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9310838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beyond_belief/pseuds/Lake
Summary: A version of what could have happened after the end of the movie.





	1. a very good year

**Author's Note:**

> This does have an accidentally sad ending, but said sad ending is the second chapter so you can skip it if you want to imagine them happy and poly forever. 
> 
> A tag I thought about using: "using the male main character to write a story about women".

"I think you should take Gretta out on a date," Miriam says, on a lazy Sunday morning after they've had sleepy sex and are drinking too-sweet coffee in bed. Dan's been home a scant two weeks and he immediately starts to choke on the sip he'd just taken. Miriam wiggles her arm around to smack him on the back, but it's not hard enough to jostle their cups. 

"I - what was that, babe?" He squints at her. "Surely I heard you wrong."

"Call Gretta and see if she wants to go out on Friday," she tells him, like she thinks Dan's an idiot for being out of the loop. He must be an idiot of some sort, because this isn't making any sense to him. But Miriam's usually been the smart one in their marriage, so he takes his phone - finally upgraded at Violet's urging to something that doesn't flip - from the nightstand and calls Gretta. 

"I hope you're free on Friday," he says when she answers, not wasting time on formalities, just plunging right in. "I'm taking you out."

Gretta laughs, just like she had when they'd met and she thought he was full of shit. "You're taking me out? As in... what?"

"On a date." He sees Miriam nodding, hair falling down around her face.

"A date," Gretta echoes, then makes a _pssh_ sound like she thinks he's joking. "You're kidding. What about -"

"I'm under orders from the woman sitting naked next to me in bed, I fucking swear," Dan says. Miriam squeezes his thigh with her free hand. "I'll pick you you at eight?"

"I, um. Okay. Should I dress up?"

Dan has no idea. "Should Gretta dress up?" he asks Miriam.

"Yes, you're going to take her someplace nice."

"Sure," Dan tells Gretta.

Gretta laughs again, sounding slightly bewildered. Dan knows the feeling. "Okay."

"I'll see you then," Dan says, and disconnects. He takes a drink of his coffee, then looks at his wife. "All right, what did I just do?" 

Miriam leans in to press a warm kiss to the side of his neck. "You and Steve are her only friends in the city, and you haven't seen her since you uploaded the album. After spending the bulk of your time with her for months."

"Working on her album, _and_ being friends doesn't equal fancy dress-up date."

"Dan."

It's not like Dan hadn't told Miriam about the time that he and Gretta probably would have had sex if Steve hadn't been home. It was one of the things they'd stayed up late his first night back talking about, confessing all the almosts of the last year and a half. There hadn't been many, because they'd been pretty honest with each other throughout the separation, but Gretta had been one of them. He thinks he probably would have regretted it afterward, and he said so. 

"Are you giving me permission?" he asks after a long moment of just looking at her.

Miriam nods. "Just - if you want to fuck her, you have to ask me first. And you have to do it here."

Dan stares at her for another prolonged stretch, looking for any signs of apprehension, something that gives away a lie, anything to indicate that Miriam's pretending for his benefit and isn't actually comfortable. She looks at him in return, calm and steady, and after a minute or two Dan has to accept that she's all right with this. 

"If that happens, were you planning on watching?"

"Maybe," she answers, a smile tugging at her mouth. 

Dan sucks in a breath, feeling like he's already in over his head, then leans over to kiss her. "Love you, princess."

*

"What do you look so nervous about?" Violet asks, as Dan fidgets with his tie for at least the tenth time, peering into the hall mirror.

"Stop messing with your tie, it's fine, and you're fine!" Miriam yells from the kitchen where she's unboxing the Chinese takeout she and Violet are going to eat. 

Violet raises her eyebrows. "Do you have a meeting or something? Kind of late for a meeting, don't you think?"

"Not in the music business," Dan mutters. He straightens up and clears his throat. "I'm taking Gretta out."

Her eyes widen and for a second he thinks she's going to get upset, but instead she says, "You're going out with Gretta? Can I come? I haven't seen her in _so long_."

"Dad's taking Gretta on a date, so no, you can't go. But you can call her tomorrow and see if she wants to go shopping some time," Miriam calls.

"A date?" Violet mouths at Dan. He nods, his heart in his throat. She shrugs. "Cool," she says. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Ha, ha." But that makes him feel less nervous, and he tugs lightly on her braid. "Okay, I'm going to go now, since traffic is probably shitty. You staying up late tonight?"

She rolls her eyes. "Mom and I are watching the new Star Trek and eating _all_ the Chinese food, so yeah."

"See you when I get home, then." Dan squeezes her around the shoulders before she can duck away, then calls, "Bye, babe!" to Miriam, who yells back for him to have fun. Violet raises her eyebrows again, so he hurries out of the house. In the car, he smokes nearly an entire cigarette before even starting the engine. 

When he pulls up in front of Steve's building, Gretta is waiting on the stoop in a rose-colored dress that seems to sparkle under the streetlights. Her hair is down instead of her usual ponytail. Dan doesn't think he's ever seen Gretta with her hair not pulled back. Her makeup looks shimmery, too. When he leans over to open the door for her, he sees she's traded her normal brown leather purse for a sequined clutch. 

And she's wearing heels. Dan's never seen her in heels. "I thought all you owned were sandals," he says as she slides into the Jaguar. 

"A girl's gotta have some secrets," she says dryly. She leans over to kiss his cheek. Her perfume is different than he's used to. "Hi."

Dan feels a little out of his depth and he wonders if Gretta can tell. "Hi." 

"So where are we going?"

"má pêche, as long as you haven't eaten."

"I haven't. Did you pick? I'm pretty sure I heard Toublegum talking about that place."

Dan glances over at her before he pulls away from the curb. "Miriam made the reservation. Apparently before I even called you."

Gretta hums, clearly turning that over in her mind. "Hey, if you don't -" Dan starts, then closes his mouth abruptly, not sure if he wants to continue. He doesn't want Gretta to change her mind. But enough of the question is out there for her to catch his meaning, and he can feel her eyes on him. 

"Dan," she says softly, and Dan clenches his fingers around the steering wheel despite an effort not to. 

"You're probably back with what's-his-face," he mutters. 

"Hey, that's not fair." Her voice is sharp and they haven't even gone three blocks. 

Dan desperately wants a drink. Instead, he forces himself to relax his grip on the wheel, then holds out his hand, palm up, to Gretta. She takes it after a moment, dry fingers curling warmly around his. He says, "That was uncalled for. I'm sorry."

Gretta rubs her thumb against his. "If I was back with Dave, I wouldn't still be living on Steve's sofa, for one. And I wouldn't have accepted your offer, either."

Dan glances at her again, but she's looking out the window. Her tone seems distant as she says, "He tried, you know. To win me back. But it won't - it won't ever be the same, you know? Our relationship would never be what it was. It just took me a while to come to terms with that." Now she's turned her head to face Dan. "I thought it was a bump in the road, but..."

"It was a fucking roadblock."

Gretta nods. After a few seconds, she says, "What about you?"

"Left turn, maybe." 

Gretta squeezes his hand, and they don't speak again until he's passing over the keys to the valet at the Chambers. She holds his hand again on the way inside, only letting go once they're shown to a tiny table along the wall, underneath a giant billow of canvas. "Have you been here before?" she asks, dropping the napkin carefully into her lap and picking up the drink list. 

Dan shakes his head. 

Gretta looks around the dimly-lit space. "I think this is the fanciest restaurant I've ever been to in my life."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. How does it even work?"

Dan shrugs, watching the waiters and waitresses move with carts between tables. "I don't know, but I'll guess we'll find out."

Just then, a server comes up to explain the menu and take their drink order. With a glance at him, Gretta orders a glass of chardonnay. Dan asks for an espresso. At her inquisitive look, he says, "I have to drive, don't I?"

"You're like, the only person in the city who drives a car."

"That's not true, Saul has a car," Dan replies, chuckling. "Troublegum has cars. Plus, I feel like it would be a waste if I didn't drive the Jag, you know? A waste of a sweet car."

"It is a very nice car. It served us well this summer."

"That it did."

Gretta rests her chin on her hand and looks at him thoughtfully. "I miss you."

"I miss you, too," Dan says honestly. Something twists raw in his chest, and he tries to cover it with a sip of espresso as it's delivered. Gretta keeps looking at him with the same contemplative expression, even over the rim of her wineglass. 

A cart full of tiny plates rolls up next to them with an expectant server at the helm. "Sir? Ma'm?"

"I'm so not old enough for anyone to call me ma'm," Gretta giggles after they've chosen. She looks down at her plate. "So do we - share? Or what?"

"Um, I guess whatever we want to do." Dan looks around, sees people splitting plates, poring over the offerings, sipping cocktails that look elegantly constructed. "Sharing sounds good to me."

Gretta sneaks a few pictures of their food as they eat. "For one of my uni friends," she explains, tucking the phone back in her purse. "She was obsessed with the Milk Bar desserts; she'll be so jealous that I ate here." At Dan's raised eyebrow, fork halfway to his mouth, she says, "What? I looked it up after Troublegum went on at length about whatever the big six-person dish is here, something with loads of beef."

"Mm-hmm," Dan hums, smiling at her, and Gretta breaks into delighted laughter. He touches his foot lightly to hers under the table. "Can I tell you something?"

"Of course."

"All that shit I said the first night we met. About standing on the subway platform."

Gretta's hand trembles and she almost drops her fork. "Dan -"

"The next train wasn't for twenty minutes, because there was some sort of delay. So I decided I had twenty minutes to drink as much as possible before I jumped in front of that train. I even looked at my watch to see what time I had to be back on that platform." A waiter approaches; Dan orders an actual cup of coffee. "Then I forgot all about it the second you started to play your song and my mind wrote the arrangement without even asking me first."

Gretta slides her hand across the table and squeezes his, so hard it hurts. 

"Anyway - my point is, I should have said thanks. And I never did. So... here, now, thank you, Gretta."

"You don't have to -"

"I do," Dan murmurs, turning their hands over so he can stroke his thumb over her palm. "And I needed to say it before this goes anywhere else."

Gretta finishes what's left of her wine. "Is this going somewhere else tonight?"

"That's up to you," Dan says before he wimps out. 

His coffee arrives and he adds cream and sugar. Gretta gives him the same contemplative look as before. "Do you want another glass of wine?" he asks, and she shakes her head. "One of those fancy cocktails?"

She huffs out a breath that makes her bangs flutter. "Those cocktails are probably forty dollars."

Dan laughs into his coffee. "I know plenty of places with cheaper ones. Want to get out of here?"

"Yes."

Gretta finishes the cup of coffee for him while he pays their bill, then slides her hand into his again for the walk out. Dan looks down at her feet. "Can you dance in those heels?"

"Not well," she says with a laugh.

"You want to stop and change them?"

"Sure, if you don't mind."

The valet brings the car up. Dan palms him a tip, then holds the door open for Gretta to get in. She folds her dress carefully over her legs and Dan finally notices that it's shorter than most of the dresses he's used to seeing her in. As he navigates into traffic, she fiddles with the radio, then unabashedly presses the eject button on his cd player to look at what's in there. "Oh, it's my album!"

"You bet, babe." Dan glances over and sees her cheeks are pink under a flash of streetlight. 

The street is busy and he has to double park in front of Steve's building. "I'll just be a second," Gretta calls as she hurries towards the building's front door. "Go around the block?"

Dan does, and she's back outside when he rolls up again, in flats and wearing a sweater. "And here I was looking forward to lending you my jacket," he says as she slides into the car. 

"It's sort of chilly tonight, you might be cold," she points out reasonably as she combs her fingers through her hair, then twists it into a band. 

Dan drives them to the same lookout spot he brought Gretta to before. She narrows her eyes at him. "Isn't this -" she starts, gesturing out the windshield at the water.

Dan grins and fishes a slim CD case out from between the seats. "Baby, you say that like you think I have an extensive repertoire of date locations."

Gretta laughs, tipping her head back as she does. Dan slides the CD into the player. "Dance with me?"

"You made me a mix CD?" she asks with wide eyes. "Dan, that's so sweet."

"You say that now, I made this in about five minutes," he laughs, holding out his hand as the song begins. "Gotta start with a classic." 

It's The Beatles, and Gretta sings along as they twist to the beat, close enough that their arms brush. She swings her hips with the bass line, and her skirt flares out. "I love this song!" she says in his ear. "The bass is amazing!"

"McCartney's a genius," Dan agrees. Gretta closes her eyes and puts her arms up, mouthing the words. After another second, Dan closes his eyes as well. 

"So that was a good start," Gretta says, as the song fades out. "What's next?"

"Ah, wait and see." Dan spins her around as the next track starts, then watches her face as she works out what's playing. 

"Is this the Wallflowers? Are these all car-themed songs?"

"They're not all car-themed songs, I swear," Dan says firmly, pulling her toward him. "Also, this song really isn't about a car."

"No, it's just sad." Gretta puts her arms around his shoulders, her eyes roaming over his face. "Did Miriam really give you permission?" she asks softly as they sway back and forth, not really to the beat. Dan feels her fingers in his hair. "I don't want you to mess things up, just for me."

"She did, and I want to, and no one's messing anything up," Dan murmurs, leaning his forehead against hers. 

Gretta touches his cheek. "Then you should kiss me now."

Dan does just that, as "One Headlight" ends and "If You Go Away" begins. Gretta makes a soft, pleased sound against his mouth. He's not sure if it's the kiss or the Shirley Bassey, but Gretta moves closer, standing between his feet. Dan leans against the car and Gretta leans against him. His stomach swoops, a tingling sensation settling into his chest. It's that unsure feeling that goes with kissing someone for the first time; he's not sure what Gretta likes. Being sober doesn't help, because he's not sure where to put his hands, until she makes an impatient-sounding noise and maneuvers his arms around her waist without breaking the kiss too much. 

"Sorry," Dan huffs, since he has to breathe anyway, "Been a long time since I've done any sort of first kiss without a lot of alcohol first."

"You were doing good, come back." Gretta tugs lightly on his tie, then loosens it with care. She meets his gaze, holds it. "I feel like that was a long time coming," she whispers.

"It was." Dan kisses her again as the song changes. 

"Is this Jason Mraz?" she mumbles without moving away, the words muffled against his skin. 

He strokes a thumb over the line of her hip. "Yep." 

"I like it." She runs her fingers through his hair and opens her mouth to his. She tastes like the peppermint gum they both chewed on the way here. Dan tries to figure out what her buttons are, see if he can make her moan, or her body tremble under his hand. He kisses her neck; that works. It also makes her press even more firmly against him, and as much as he'd like to slide his hand up under her dress and draw her leg up around his waist, they're in public. And his wife wants to watch. 

"Dan," she moans as he drags his mouth along the skin bare above the collar of her dress. "We shouldn't -"

"Yeah." He stops and rests his forehead on her shoulder.

"Wouldn't It Be Nice" starts to play, and Gretta looks delighted. She breaks away to dance and that gives them both a few minutes to cool down. Dan stays leaning against the car, silently telling his body to stop screaming at him as he watches Gretta. She steps back in as the song slows, settling her arms over his shoulders. "So."

"So."

"What are we doing?"

Dan reaches up and winds some of her hair around his fingers. "I should go home, have a discussion with Miriam. All she said was that if we were going to have sex, I had to bring you home for that. And she might want to watch."

"Oh. Well." Her face is pink. "I guess it's better we don't do anything at Steve's, that sofa isn't really big enough. And it squeaks a little."

Dan can't help but laugh at that. "True." He kisses her quickly. "I've never done this before," he says honestly. "I was too much of a fucking mess for any sort of interpersonal contact during the whole separation."

She cups his cheek. "Sort it out. Then tell me." She kisses him once more before they get in the car.

In front of the apartment, Dan hands over the CD before Gretta can go. " _October Gretta Mix_ ," she reads, then smiles at him. "Are you making a November Gretta mix?"

"I could, if you want."

"I do." 

"I mean, I didn't put much thought into this one, so now you're telling me I have to up my game." Dan leans his head back against the seat and grins at her lazily. 

"Yeah, you do." Gretta leans over to kiss him, quicker this time. "It was still sweet. Thanks for dinner."

*

Violet's asleep on the couch when Dan gets home, but Miriam's awake, reading a book. Dan tilts his head to see the title and laughs. "Didn't you swear you'd never read another Dylan biography?"

Miriam gives an exaggerated sigh. "I'm going to Boston next month to review his show at the Garden, I figured I'd get in a refresher. Not my best choice, really." She tosses the book aside without bothering to mark her place. 

Dan slides out of his jacket. "Guess I don't have to worry about you leaving me for Bob," he says. Miriam snorts with laughter, her shoulders shaking helplessly. Dan feels good, making her laugh like that, and then figures he's ruining the levity when he says, "Okay, so, we should talk about Gretta."

But Miriam just smiles. "Did you have a good time?"

Dan sits down to take his boots off, careful not to make any loud noises. "We had a very nice time."

"You didn't bring her home."

"I thought you and I, and probably you and I and Gretta, should talk about sex before that happens. If it happens."

Violet snores once and twists on the couch, but doesn't wake up. Miriam pulls her feet up under her to sit cross-legged, watching Dan. He says quietly, "I need to know - from you, from your mouth and your brain - what's cool and what's not. Like, is this a thing where we give each other permission to see other people?"

Miriam shrugs. "Certain other people, I guess. I just know that I'm okay with you dating Gretta. I like her. And you guys really made a connection this summer. I can't deny that."

"That's not the same as sending your husband out to woo a twentysomething with dinner and a couple kisses."

"Please, you don't give a shit that you're so much older," Miriam laughs. "Were they good kisses?"

"Yes. What if you want to date someone else?" he asks.

She redoes her ponytail. "I'll cross that bridge when it comes."

"No, I need to know now. If you're letting me see Gretta, it's only fair that I extend you the same - option, courtesy, whatever you want to call it."

"Do you want me to see other people, Dan?" she whispers.

Dan's not sure. He rubs a hand over his face, then looks at her from between his fingers. "Can you ask me again tomorrow?"

"Sure. Come on, wake up your daughter and tell her she has to sleep in her own room." Miriam moves the book to the side table and unfolds herself from the cushions. "I'm getting a glass of wine before bed, you want one?"

Dan thinks about it for a second, staring down at his feet as he wiggles his toes. He feels sort of buzzed already, somehow. "No, I think I'm good." Then he stands up and pokes at Violet's shoulder until she makes waking-up noises. "Bedtime, baby girl. C'mon."

Violet grumbles, but sits up. "What time is it?"

Dan looks at his watch. "Midnight, or close enough. C'mon."

Violet groans her whole way up the stairs, dragging her feet. "Is this a teenage thing?" Dan whispers to Miriam, who's leaning in the doorway from the kitchen with her glass of wine. 

"Don't you remember being a teenager?" she asks dryly. 

Dan lies. "No."

She shakes her head at him. "I'm going to read before I go to sleep, you coming?"

"Yeah."

Violet's door is shut but Dan doesn't see any light coming from underneath it, so he figures she's actually gone to sleep. In the bedroom, he ditches his pants and crawls into the bed, curling around Miriam. She tangles her fingers in his hair. "I love you," he says.

"Love you, too."

Dan presses his face to her shoulder and sighs. "Okay?" Miriam asks, fingers scratching lightly at his scalp.

"That feels good. Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired."

His phone buzzes where he'd put it on the nightstand to charge. He scoots back across the bed and grabs it. There's a text from Gretta. _everything ok?_

_everything's fine,_ he types, then glances over at Miriam. "Hey, Princess?"

She looks up. "Yeah?"

"Can we take one of those self-picture things?"

Her eyebrows rise. "I'm wearing pajamas. Who are you sending it to?"

"Gretta."

She marks her place and moves closer. Dan holds the phone out with the camera facing them, completely unsure of the angle. He's taken like, two of these before in his life. "Ready?"

"Ready."

He makes a goofy face and snaps the picture. "We look like dorks," he says, looking at it. Their chins are cut off at the bottom, but it's okay. Miriam's lips are pursed like she's blowing a kiss. 

"I think that's appropriate." 

Dan attaches the shot to his reply and sends it. Not a minute later, his phone vibrates again. Gretta's sent her own picture, looking happy, blowing a kiss in response.

*

The weather has definitely turned toward winter the day Dan ducks out of the office for lunch and meets Gretta in Central Park. They sit on a bench in their coats, drinking lattes and sharing a sandwich from the place down the street from Gretta's apartment. "I think I might actually miss these sandwiches when I go home," Gretta says, rubbing a napkin between her fingers.

Dan looks up, suddenly so full of worry he can barely swallow the bite he'd just taken. "You're going home?"

"No, not anytime soon. Oh, your face was just awful." She touches his arm. "I was only saying, Dan."

"You scared me for a second there."

Gretta scoots closer. Dan wipes off his hands and puts his arm around her shoulders. "Do you miss it?" he asks.

"A little, sometimes. I don't think I was ever really homesick, even after all my plans changed. I miss my parents, but we Skype a lot. My dad likes it when I play them my songs."

Dan thinks that might be one of the nicest things he's ever heard. "What do they do?"

"My mum's a playwright, which I think is why they were always so okay with me doing music, you know? And my dad does real estate."

"Are they in Bristol?"

"No, They're in South London." Gretta takes a sip of her coffee. "I'm actually trying to get them to come for a visit, but one of my mom's plays just got picked up, so she's busy with the rehearsals until at least mid-December."

Dan kisses her temple. "How about Christmas?"

"I think they'll go to my brother's in Colchester for Christmas. It's quality grandkid time, my dad says."

"I have no idea where that is," Dan says, and Gretta laughs. "How many kids does your brother have?"

"Two girls. They're pretty cute. Want to see pictures?"

"Sure."

Gretta takes out her phone and shows him two kids who look like they're both too young for kindergarten, with hair the same color as Gretta's done up in pigtails, posing for the camera with huge cheesy smiles. "I haven't gotten to see them all that much," she says, leaning her head on his shoulder, "but my brother sends me pictures and posts loads of stuff on Facebook. Probably drives the rest of his friends nuts, all the kid stuff."

"Maybe your folks could come for New Year's," Dan suggests.

"They might like that. I'll ask them next time we talk."

He looks at his watch and sighs into Gretta's hair. "It's after one-thirty, I should probably head back to the office. You need a ride anywhere?"

"I'm meeting Steve at two at the place we're playing next week to see what all we can fit on the stage, if you want to drop me off?"

"Sure."

He's got Clapton in the player in the car, and Gretta hums along in between giving him directions to the bar. "I really hope this place isn't shitty," she says as Dan pulls up. It looks pretty dingy from the outside, but it's been Dan's experience that most bars do. 

"It probably is."

She laughs. "Yeah, probably."

"Here, I made this for you," he says, reaching over her to take a slim CD case from the glove box. 

He holds up the case, but doesn't let her take it. "Okay, before you listen: one or two of these is kind of dirty, _and_ I want you to know, I thought long and hard about putting some Boyz II Men on here."

Gretta's mouth works like she's trying not to laugh. Dan kisses her, sliding his hand around the back of her neck. "I'll let you figure out which track it was I contemplated but ultimately discarded."

"Was it their most famous song?" she asks against his mouth, and now she's actually laughing. 

"That's probably the only one most people your age know."

"Hey!" Gretta thumps his chest. Dan grins at her, unrepentant, and Gretta tugs lightly at his hair. "I'm going to get out of the car now," she says.

"No, hey." He cups her cheek. "One more."

Gretta kisses him quickly and then slides out of the Jaguar. "You're coming next Friday night, right?"

"I will try my hardest to make it," Dan says. "I'm still trying not to rock the boat too much with Saul."

"Understandable." She waves. "Bye!"

*

Dan gets out of work the following Friday in time to catch the end of Gretta's set, sliding in by the bar and getting an O'Doul's. He can see Miriam and Violet at a table towards the front, but the place is fairly crowded, and they're sharing the table with other people. "So I've only got a little bit of a band tonight," Gretta is saying, "but it's been all right so far, yeah?"

People clap and Dan hears a few "whoo!"s. He smiles behind his beer bottle. 

Steve is on a small drum kit and Glen's on keys. They play "Coming Up Roses" and it sounds good to Dan, even though he can't help but mentally layer in the bass. Gretta looks much more comfortable than she did the first time Dan saw her, smiling during the instrumental parts. 

"I think we're going to end with a cover, is that cool?" Gretta asks when the song is done, and random voices shout, "Yes!". She smiles. "Good, I hope you guys know this one."

It's Blondie's "Dreaming". Dan hides a smile behind his bottle. He can see a few people singing along. It's the most Gretta Blondie song that Dan can think of, and he's got his suspicions that she chose it as a reference to their very first conversation, when she'd been so offended at his drunken suggestion that she ditch the baggy jeans and sweater. Tonight she's wearing what looks to him like the same blue dress she'd worn the night they uploaded the album. She's also rocking the guitar pretty hard; Dan's never heard her play it quite like this. 

There's plenty of applause when the song ends. Gretta looks like she's blushing, but it could be just the stage lights. As a couple people start to filter out, Dan winds his way through the tables and chairs to his wife and daughter. "You made it after all," Miriam says, as he leans down to kiss her hello. "We were worried. My suitcase is in your car."

"I managed to sneak out without Saul catching me." 

Gretta sees them from the stage and waves, then says something to Steve and puts away her guitar before jumping down. She's pink-faced and damp with sweat and Dan can't remember if he's ever seen her look so happy.

She kisses him hello, then kisses Miriam on the cheek and hugs Violet tightly. "You've been practicing your guitar," Dan says, pointing a finger at her, falsely accusing. 

Gretta grins widely at him, her arm around Violet's waist. "A little. But I really need to get Violet to come up some time, play on a few songs."

"I don't know about playing live," Violet says with a grimace. 

"We'll practice first," Gretta promises. "They want us to come back in two weeks, on a Saturday this time, if that's cool with Dan and Miriam?"

Dan rocks back on his heels and trades speculative looks with Miriam, who says, "I don't have a problem with it."

"Dad?"

"You know it's cool with me, baby girl." 

"I need to pack up and cash out, so I'm going to be a few more minutes," Gretta says, waving a hand over her shoulder towards the stage. "Are you guys going to hang out?"

Miriam shakes her head. "My flight leaves in two hours, so I'm getting my bag out of the car and catching a cab to the airport."

"That's right, the Dylan show!" Gretta exclaims. "I hope it's fun. I hope they're giving you a box."

"There is no way I am fighting with that crowd," Miriam laughs. She hugs Gretta quickly and says something Dan can't hear, but that makes Gretta turn even redder as she turns to climb back up onto the stage to help Steve. 

Miriam hugs Violet, then kisses Dan. He slides his arms around her waist. "I'll miss you."

She smiles at him. "You're bringing Gretta back to the house with you, and I'll be back Sunday afternoon, so no, you won't."

"I might."

"You only think you're funny, Dan." 

Violet makes a gagging noise, which makes Dan and Miriam both laugh as Miriam pulls away. "You, behave," she says to Violet, who rolls her eyes dramatically. 

"Should we help Gretta pack up?" Dan asks once Miriam's gone. 

"Sure."

Violet winds up cords while Dan helps Steve break down the drum kit, and they get it all loaded into Glen's car that's parked in the alley behind the bar. Gretta comes out the back door with a tote bag over her shoulder and her guitar on her back. Dan can see she's got some cash in one hand, and a bottle of Jack Daniels in the other. "So here's your cut," she says to Glen, handing him some of the money, "and here's yours, Steve." She passes over cash and the bottle of whiskey. "Since I drank so much of yours over the summer."

"You are the perfect woman," Steve says solemnly, raising the bottle up like he's making a toast. "Want to crack it open tonight?"

Gretta waves a hand at Dan and Violet. "I'm going with them."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Violet and I have important girl things to discuss."

"I'll save you some. Maybe." He and Gretta hug goodbye. "Dan, next time, bass."

"I don't know about that idea," Dan says, shaking his head.

Gretta whispers, not quiet enough that Dan can't hear, "I think I can convince him."

"I think you should, Dad," Violet says, grinning. Dan jostles her, and she jostles him back, and they stand in the alley half pushing each other for a few seconds until Gretta says, "Come on, you two. I'm beat."

Dan looks at his watch. It's barely eleven. "What, did you get up early or something?"

"As a matter of fact, I did," Gretta replies, as they walk up to the Jag. She opens the passenger door for Violet, but Violet gets into the back seat. Gretta raises her eyebrows at Dan. He shrugs and brushes his hand lightly over her waist as he walks past. 

"So what did you get up early for?" Violet asks once Dan's pulled out into traffic. 

"It's nothing exciting. I'm just giving little piano lessons to a few of the people in Steve's building."

Dan glances at her. "Really?"

"Well, it's not like I'm selling a couple hundred copies a day anymore, now is it?" she laughs, leaning against the window. "I can't crash for free on Steve's couch forever."

Dan has access to Gretta's sales spreadsheets; she gave him access, so he knows exactly how much money she's made so far. He also knows she'd given Steve, Glen, Rachel, and Malcolm a bigger cut once Troublegum refused to let her pay him back for Phat Jimmy and Benson's services, and once Dan turned down the money she offered him. 

"We've got an extra bedroom, if you need someplace to stay," Violet says. Dan coughs into his hand. "What, we do!"

"I know we do. We'll talk about it later, okay?" He looks at her in the rearview, imploring. 

"I think I'm safe at Steve's for a while longer," Gretta says over her shoulder to Violet. "And I promised these two elderly ladies five lessons apiece, and we're only on our second ones."

Dan exhales carefully in relief as Violet asks more questions about Gretta's students. Gretta's in the middle of a story about trying - and failing - to explain to them the importance of scales when they pull up in front of the house. "I gave up after five minutes and started on 'Happy Birthday' instead," she says, groaning. 

"At least that, they can play for the grandkids," Dan laughs. To Violet, he says, "I'm not going to have to yell at you to go to bed, am I?"

"It's Friday," she says, like he's an idiot. Dan's starting to think this runs in the family. 

He unlocks the front door before he waves his hands at her. "Yeah, sure, okay. After you."

Violet gives him the smile he's started to call the 'my dad's cool but he's also sort of a loser' smile, which Dan's decided he doesn't mind since they're actually getting along fairly well. It helps that she seems to have more sense of self than six months ago. She's made a couple good friends at school this year and none of them live too far away, so there are often extra teenagers around the house. Dan doesn't mind that, either; so far, they seem kind of responsible. Sort of.

"You know I'm going to sleep over at Chris' tomorrow night, right?"

"Is Chris a girl?" Dan asks, even though he's met Chris several times and knows who she is. 

"Dad. Do you really want to go there," Violet deadpans. Gretta cracks up, covering her mouth with her hand. Violet grins at them and goes up the stairs to her room. Dan swings sideways and slides his arm around Gretta's waist. "You, hush."

"You couldn't make me if you tried."

"Oh, really?" Gretta's about the same height he is, but she's light enough that Dan can turn her around and walk her backwards towards the sofa without a problem. It helps that she goes easily, smiling at him and toying with his hair the whole way. 

"I'm glad you could make it for at least a few songs."

"Me, too. Sounded good for your first solo show ever. And I enjoyed your choice of covers to end the evening."

"I thought you might like that." 

Dan turns them around again, so he can sit on the couch and Gretta can sit on his lap. She kisses him, then says, "Wait, no. This won't work, I'll get a crick in my neck." She slides off his legs and sits next to him, close. Dan keeps his arm around her waist. "Okay, again, please."

Like Dan is going to say no. Gretta's hands are warm on his face as they kiss lazily for several minutes. Then she pulls back and looks at him inquisitively. "Did you have a beer?"

"I had one of those nonalcoholic things. It was kinda shitty, but still better than that sugary crap that passes as soda."

"It's the same soda it was twenty years ago," Gretta laughs. 

Dan nuzzles her neck. "I think I read somewhere that it's not. And twenty years ago I was adding Jack to almost every Coke I drank, so my recollections are basically fucked."

Gretta tilts her forehead against his and asks, "Do you want to drink?"

Dan thinks about it for a moment, replays various moments of his life over the last couple sober months, and eventually says, "No. Because now it's all mixed up with the miserable times in my life, and I don't want that again."

"That's a good answer. And sort of philosophical."

"I doubt it." He rubs his thumb over her collarbone, wondering if they should go to bed, wondering how awkward it'll be, since they haven't even seen each other naked yet. Gretta doesn't seem to be in a hurry. She's toying with the collar of his shirt. She undoes one of the buttons as Dan clears his throat and asks, "Want to listen to Pink Floyd?"

"Sure."

They end up lying on the floor, throw pillows under their heads. Dan watches Gretta's eyes close as she listens to the music. "Do people even do this sort of thing anymore?" he asks quietly. 

"Lie on the floor and listen to music?"

"Write whole albums about one thing." He strokes a fingers along her shoulder. "Do you know what Roger Waters said about this album, about why it exists?"

"No, what did he say?"

Dan clears his this throat. "Okay, so. Pink Floyd's really fucking famous by then, this was after 'Dark Side of the Moon' exploded, right, and so they're playing football stadiums, arenas, huge places like that. So one night some fan climbs the netting they've got up to separate the band from the crowd because people are assholes, and he's yelling in Roger's face. Screaming, just being an irritating piece of shit human being. And Roger's so mad he spits on him."

Gretta bumps her arm against his. "Then what?" 

"After the show, Roger fucks up his foot messing around and has to go to the hospital. On the way back to the hotel after getting his foot fixed up, he tells their producer, and a friend of that guy's who was a psychiatrist, how mad he is and how frustrated and shit. So this whole experience that night, it makes Roger take a good hard look at himself and what Pink Floyd's becoming. And he has to make a choice. Whether he wants to keep going the way they are, numbed by fame and addiction, or to make a change and figure out who he really is." Dan pauses, waving a hand above himself in the air. "All those feelings, Waters takes them and creates characters around them, and gives those characters songs that eventually become this album."

He winds his fingers through Gretta's as "One of My Turns" really gets going and turns his head so his mouth is close to her ear. "When I was - at my worst, I felt like this song." 

She rubs her fingertips over his skin. Dan can tell she's paying conscious attention to the lyrics. After a minute, she says, "You don't feel like this anymore, do you?"

Dan shakes his head. Gretta kisses his cheek. He asks, "What about you?"

"I hardly think about him anymore." She pauses for a moment. "Doing the album was amazing therapy, you know."

"I always thought pouring out all the sadness into music was a good way to get over someone. That's probably why so many songs are about heartbreak and pain instead of happiness." Dan lifts their hands and kisses Gretta's fingers. 

"Okay, there's your theme for your next mix. You have to find me songs about happiness."

"I might have to get kind of obscure," Dan laughs.

" _Or_ you could do a whole mix of songs about getting laid." Gretta moves so she's hovering over him, upside down. "Speaking of..."

"Yeah?"

"Let's go to bed, Dan." She stands up, then reaches down and grabs his hands, pulling him up from the floor. Dan tosses the pillows back on the couch and turns off the stereo as Gretta picks up her bag from the bottom of the stairs. 

Dan goes up first. He leads her into the guest room and carefully closes the door behind them. 

"So," Gretta says as Dan turns toward her. She's smiling and unbuttoning her dress. "Before we do this, I think it would be only right to talk about a few things. First, I'm not a virgin and you don't need to treat me like one. Second, it's been a long time since I slept with someone who wasn't Dave."

"Okay." Dan starts to unbutton his own shirt. "I haven't slept with anyone but Miriam in eighteen years."

"So this might be awkward."

"This might be awkward," he says with a laugh. "But I'm game."

"Me too." Gretta drops the dress to the floor. She's wearing a skintight tank and plain white underwear, and it's sexy as hell. Suddenly he feels every one of the years between them.

"What is it?" she asks. Her eyes search his face. 

"You're winning the 'who looks better naked' contest hands down, baby." 

Gretta laughs and waves her hands at him. Her necklaces flash in the light. "Come on, your turn."

Dan strips down to his briefs as she watches. "I feel like you're judging me."

"I'm not judging. I wouldn't have told you to get naked if I didn't want to look." She steps forward and puts one hand on his chest, and kisses him. Dan slides his fingertips under the edge of her tank, pushing it up a little higher when Gretta makes a pleased noise against his mouth. She nips gently at his lower lip, then leans back just enough to pull the tank up over her head. "Flat as a board," she says mournfully.

"Beautiful," Dan counters, kissing her neck. Gretta sits down on the bed, pulling him with her. "Is there anything you like, or don't like?" he asks, trailing fingers over her thigh. 

"Mmm, I like getting eaten out, but Dave didn't like to do it. He hated it, actually."

Dan's already sliding down her body. "Baby, you don't need to worry about that with me." He hooks his fingers in the waistband of her panties and tugs them down. 

"So this is the good part of sleeping with an older - oh, God," she moans as Dan spreads her open with his thumbs and licks into her, wasting no time. He feels fingers in his hair, pulling as he flicks his tongue over her clit, and he can hear Gretta's soft wordless noises. They turn to gasps as he uses the tip of his tongue to trace the entrance to her body, then goes back to her clit, rubbing flat against it. Everything's slick and Gretta's hips are making tiny rocking motions, every forward roll pressing her pussy right to his mouth.

Dan thinks he could do this for hours, but her hands in his hair start to pull harder until he stops and breathes hot against her inner thigh. "You want to come like this?" he asks. "Because I want to feel that, babe, want to feel your sweet -"

"Yes, yes, do it," Gretta chokes out. Dan glances up, can see the flush all down her chest. He slides one hand up to rub his fingertips over her nipple, then goes back to work. It doesn't take much longer before she's muffling all her cries against her palm as Dan works her clit relentlessly. Then her hips press up once more and she lets out a long sigh. Dan gentles his touch, stopping slowly as Gretta twitches against him, and finally trails a line of kisses down her thigh to her knee. 

"Good?" he asks, hearing his voice raw. 

"Really good." Gretta sighs again, then stretches. She pushes herself up on her elbows and asks, "Condom?"

"Oh, I think I've got one in my wallet."

"Good, because it would be weird for you to walk down the hallway like that." She arches a brow at Dan's obvious erection as he gets off the bed and fishes for his pants. There is indeed a condom in his wallet; he's just glad it's not super old. He ditches his briefs before leaning over Gretta to kiss her again. She cups his cheek and they kiss lazily for a moment. Dan can feel Gretta's pulse pounding in her neck

"I want to be on top," she says suddenly.

"You bet, babe." 

Dan turns onto his back and quickly rolls on the condom. Gretta ducks down and presses a kiss to his mouth before swinging a leg across Dan's waist. Dan rubs his thumb over her nipple as she slides down onto him, slowly, making small breathy noises. Her eyes are closed, and the flush on her face goes almost all the way down her chest. Dan traces the edge of it to distract himself as Gretta gets herself where she wants to be. She leans over and kisses him again, sighing his name. "You okay?" he whispers against her lips. 

Gretta rolls her hips, slowly. "I'm good." 

A shudder runs up Dan's spine, a quaver of pleasure that curls up and lodges hot behind his ears. Gretta's humming something; he focuses on it and is startled into laughing, because it's the running musical theme throughout "The Wall". 

"What?" Gretta demands, her hands flat on his chest. 

"You're humming Pink Floyd," Dan manages to say, because she hasn't stopped the steady roll of her hips. 

"Oh." She bites her bottom lip for a second, looking down at him, then her brows draw together slightly. "Was I moving in time with it?"

Dan plays the line of the song she was humming again in his head. "Maybe - ah - the downbeat. If you went all-out I'd come in ten seconds and then have a heart attack. Maybe the heart attack first."

She grinds down, extra dirty on purpose, and Dan groans. "You might kill me anyway," he huffs. 

"You're not - oh, God - that old."

Dan's not sure how either of them are managing to form words, much less sentences. He curves his hands over Gretta's hips, and squeezes gently. Her skin is hot and damp beneath his palms. He whispers, "Think you can come again?"

She nods. "Oh, I'm good."

*

Neither one of them is moving, letting the sweat cool, when Gretta suddenly starts giggling.

"What?" he asks, looking over at her. "Is this belated commentary on my dick? Please don't tell me it's belated commentary about my dick."

"It's not," she manages to gasp out. Then she takes a deep breath. "Your dick was fine. It just suddenly occurred to me that I've now slept with two guys with Wikipedia entries."

"That's what you think about after sex?" Dan asks, incredulous. He laughs. "Wait, don't you have a Wikipedia page?"

"Do I? I don't think so."

He turns on his side and looks at her. "You got full credit on one of the songs on Dave's album, right?"

"And partial on another, yeah."

"If there's album info up, someone might have generated a page for you."

She slaps lightly at his chest. "Shut up." 

Dan gets up and finds his phone in the pocket of his jeans, pulls up Wikipedia and, after some poking around, finds that there's a page for Gretta. "It's a stub, but it's there," he says, holding out his phone. 

"This is too weird," she groans, covering her face with her hand. "Can I delete it?"

"I don't know. Probably." He rolls away and puts the phone safely on the nightstand. "Want to go to breakfast tomorrow?"

"Sure. Are you going to sneak out of here so Violet doesn't see you?"

Dan shrugs. "I'm not interested in being anything less than honest with Violet. Has she said something to you?"

"Nope." Gretta leans over and kisses his shoulder. "I'm going to put on real pajamas and brush my teeth and stuff."

Dan figures he should probably do those things himself. He finds his underwear on the floor and pulls them on again, then his shirt. He carries his pants down to the master bedroom and dumps them in the hamper before finding a pair of thin sweatpants to change into, hopping on one foot and then the other as he pulls them on and tries to head for the bathroom at the same time.

Gretta's changed and is back in the bed when Dan goes upstairs again, reading something on her phone. She looks up when he comes in. "I haven't slept in a bed with someone in months," she says. "That time we fell asleep together listening to Duke Ellington on your shitty couch in that shitty apartment doesn't count."

"Uh, that time was really fucking awkward in the morning. Let's not do that part again." Dan takes his socks off and slides between the sheets. 

Gretta bumps their feet together, humming lightly under her breath. "I had a crick in my neck that lasted like three days."

"That's because your head was hanging off the edge," he replies, leaning over to kiss her neck. Gretta makes a goofy face, then cuddles up against him. Dan kisses her goodnight before switching off the lamp and sliding down further beneath the blankets.

*

"I really don't like these fancy business holiday things," Dan whines to Miriam as they're getting changed in the bedroom to go. They're meeting Saul and his wife Shonda, which Dan doesn't mind at all, but he does mind the other hundred people he'll have to mingle with. He fidgets with his tie. "Can't I just stay home and listen to the fifty demos I have to get through?"

"Stop it. You like the Island guys, what were their names again? Tim and Jason? They'll be there. Zip me up?"

Dan does the zipper on Miriam's black dress, then kisses the side of her neck. "If there's a shitty band, we're leaving early," he warns. "You smell good, Princess; is that a new perfume?"

Dryly, she says, "I didn't dodge the saleslady at Macy's fast enough the other day, and then I actually liked it. So she gave me a few samples."

"Write down what kind it is, I'll get it for you for Christmas," he says, inspired. 

"You got me socks from CVS the last Christmas we spent together."

"I know. Which is why I should put forth a little more effort this year, yeah?"

Miriam chuckles and leans forward to look at herself in the mirror propped on a small table. "What the hell am I going to do with my hair?"

Dan doesn't know, but there's a knock on the doorframe that has him and Miriam both turning. It's Gretta. Violet must have let her in downstairs. "Can I help?" she asks Miriam. 

"If you think you can tame this." Miriam holds out a comb. 

Gretta gestures for her to sit down on the bed, and sits cross-legged behind her. Dan leans against the wall to watch. As Gretta is carefully combing out Miriam's hair and parting it, Violet wanders into the room. "We're getting pizza, right?" she asks Gretta.

"Right."

"What do you want on it?"

Dan watches in fascination as Gretta does something twisty and complicated with one section of Miriam's hair. She says, "Um, mushrooms for sure, otherwise I don't care. Dan, can you grab me those pins off the table?"

Dan finds the little box of bobbypins on the table and hands it to Violet, who carefully hands them one by one to Gretta. "Can we get pepperoni?" Violet asks.

"Sure. What do you think, does this look good?"

"It looks really nice," Violet says, touching one of the twists carefully. Miriam smiles at Dan, and he grins back. "Will you do my hair?"

Gretta's expression is incredulous. "Of _course_ I will do your hair." 

Dan looks at the three of them sitting on the bed and loves them so much and so hard he thinks his heart is actually expanding in his chest. It hurts a little and he has to lean against the wall a little harder to stay standing. Miriam catches his eye and smiles again as Gretta does something complicated with a few bobby pins before proclaiming, "Done! Wait, no. You need something shiny."

"I might be too old for shiny," Miriam says dryly.

Dan sees Gretta roll her eyes. "Please. Vi, you have anything that might work?"

"I think so. Be right back." Violet scrambles off the bed and Dan hears her running up the stairs.

She returns with a small sparkling pin, which Gretta tucks neatly against one of the twists and fixes in place. "There," she says, running her hands gently over Miriam's shoulders and plucking away a fallen strand of hair. "Definitely not too glittery."

"Mom, you look great," Violet says. It's clear to Dan that she's itching to steal Gretta away back downstairs for their girls' night. 

Miriam's squinting at herself in the mirror. She leans back and smiles. "Thanks, sweetie. Thanks, Gretta." 

"Anytime." Gretta clambers off the bed and links her arm through Violet's. "Pizza?"

"Pizza."

"You need a tie," Miriam says to Dan. "The striped one."

"I don't like the striped one," Dan grumbles, but he knows she's right and it looks the best with this jacket, so he slips it on. "I'm not buttoning my shirt all the way, though."

"So contrary," she teases, and kisses him lightly.

Dan spins her around, appreciating the way the skirt of her dress flares out slightly. "You really do look nice."

"Thanks, babe. Put your shoes on."

*

_This should be weird_ , Dan thinks, settling onto the couch between Miriam and Gretta on New Year's Eve. Violet is at one of her friend's houses, so it's just the three of them. Someone should be jealous here, or feel out of place, or something.

"This isn't weird, is it?" he asks out loud.

Gretta looks up from her phone where she's texting with her brother. Her socked feet are dangling over the arm of the couch, and her head is leaning against Dan's shoulder. "No, why?"

"Dan's overthinking things again," Miriam says from Dan's other side. She's scrolling through the on-demand, since the plan is to watch a movie before watching the ball drop at midnight. Dan protests that he's not, and Miriam shoves her shoulder against his. "You are. You're having one of your minor crises about being both happily married and having sex with a younger woman."

"We don't really have sex that often," Gretta says without looking up from writing back to her brother. 

Dan wonders if it would be possible for the earth to open up and swallow him whole right in the middle of the living room. "Why are we discussing this?"

"You brought it up, you idiot," Miriam points out. "I did my research before I suggested this arrangement, and talking about stuff is an important part of it. That's the only way it works."

Gretta tips her head back, looking at Dan. "I don't mind talking about it."

"Except with your parents," he says.

"My parents would _so_ not understand our friends with occasional benefits arrangement," she replies. She puts her phone on the coffee table.

"Don't you want to get laid more?" Miriam asks, apparently to Gretta, and Dan coughs to cover his strangled noise.

Gretta shrugs. "It's enough for me."

"How much sex did you think we were having?" Dan asks his wife.

It's her turn to shrug. "I figured it couldn't be all that much, given the living conditions in Steve's apartment."

Gretta bursts out laughing. "Not to mention, the backseat of the car is _not comfortable_."

"Don't badmouth my car," Dan groans, and they both laugh at him.

Miriam slides her hand over his knee and squeezes. "The car is very nice, sweetie."

Gretta laughs harder, turning so that she's curled against Dan. "Maybe we should give the back seat another shot," she manages to gasp out.

"No, you're right, it was a tight fit." He regrets the words the second they're out of his mouth, as both of them crack up again. He scowls as he asks, "Are we picking a movie or what? T-minus two hours to midnight."

"Nice change of subject. Go get me a glass of champagne, it's in the fridge," Miriam says, nudging him. "Gretta and I will pick a movie."

"Get me one too, please," Gretta adds.

Dan disentangles himself, grumbling but not meaning it at all, and gets up. He can hear them talking softly as he opens the cold bottle of champagne, but can't make out the words. 

"How about this one?" Miriam asks when he hands over the slim glasses, leaving the bottle to sweat on the coffee table. It's the latest James Bond, which Dan hasn't seen.

"Sure." He sits down between them again and Miriam starts the movie. 

No one says much as they watch. Dan refills glasses a few times, gets himself a Pellegrino. Gretta's leaning warm against one side, and he's got his arm around Miriam on the other. It's comfortable, and Dan can feel his earlier apprehension evaporate. 

They stop before the movie's over to watch the ball drop. "You could have gone to watch," he tells Gretta as the countdown starts. "It's… well, it's something."

"Mmm, I'd rather be here." She squeezes his hand. "Plenty of people to kiss right in this room."

The sound of fireworks is suddenly loud from the television, and Gretta leans over Dan to kiss Miriam softly on the mouth. "Happy New Year," he thinks she says, but he's not sure because the blood is rushing in his ears.

Miriam smirks at him. "Weren't expecting that, were you?" she asks, then kisses him, cupping his face with one hand.

"Definitely not." He turns his head to give Gretta her kiss, noting the bemused expression on her face.

He starts to yawn in the middle of it and she breaks into laughter. "Dan!"

Dan claps a hand over his mouth, narrowly avoiding smacking his elbow against the back of the couch. "Sorry! Here, let's try again." 

Gretta kisses him softly. "Happy 2013."

"2013, fuck. Wasn't it just 1985?"

"Ha ha," Miriam says over his shoulder. "Gretta, any resolutions?"

"Nope. You?"

Miriam hums for a second, and Dan feels her resettle herself on the cushions. "I've never been very good at keeping them. But I'd like to spend more time outside, when winter's over. There's a whole backyard out there I've barely done anything with all the years we've lived here. Maybe I'll plant some flowers."

Gretta says, "Make friends with bees."

"Why not?" Miriam nudges Dan with her knee. "Your turn."

Dan lets the thought run around his head for a moment. "Produce more, drink less."

Gretta proclaims she likes it, and Miriam squeezes his thigh. "Those are very _you_ resolutions."

"I know," Dan says, and grins. 

"Well, now that we've got that settled," Gretta says, leaning forward to grab the remote from the table, "let's watch the end of this."

*

Dan wakes up very warm, and for a minute is confused at the unfamiliar feeling of weight pressing down the mattress on either side of him. Then he remembers Gretta walking towards the guest room in her pajamas and Miriam catching her hand, tipping her head towards the master bedroom. "If you want."

"Sure, as long as it's okay with both of you?"

Miriam walked towards the master in reply, fingers still tangled with Gretta's.

From the sound of their breathing, they're both still asleep, and Dan realizes he's probably stuck in the bed unless he wants to wake one of them up. Which would be fine, but his bladder is screaming. He figures trying to crawl up and over the comforter would probably wake everyone up. 

Very carefully, he turns towards Miriam. 

"Why are you waking me up?" she whispers after a few seconds. "You know I can't sleep with you staring at me like that."

"I need to pee and I'm trapped in the middle."

"That's the penalty for sleeping in the middle," Miriam grumbles, but slides out from under the blankets so Dan can get free. "Go make us coffee or something," she says, getting back into the bed. Gretta makes a grumpy noise and flails a hand around, encountering Miriam's arm. 

Dan takes care of his bathroom needs and figures he might as well brush his teeth while he's in there. When he exits, he finds Gretta cuddled up next to Miriam, mumbling sleepily about what sounds like Rilo Kiley. Miriam catches his eye and kisses Gretta's jaw. 

"Oh, that's dirty pool," Dan says. 

"Dirty pool what?" Gretta asks with wide eyes and a falsely innocent expression, before she kisses Miriam in what Dan considers to be a proper fashion. He stumbles a little on the edge of the carpet before catching himself on the doorframe, his heart tripping in his chest. _I'm too young for a heart attack,_ he thinks wildly.

Miriam sees him looking and gives him a sly smile. "Dan. Coffee."

"Uh-huh."

"And maybe you should see if Violet is awake. If she is, you're on breakfast duty."

"Waffles, please," Gretta calls from where she's snuggled back down under the comforter.

Dan clutches at his chest in mock horror and pretends to grumble, but goes.


	2. epilogue

Dan drives Gretta to the airport on a Tuesday morning; so early it's almost still Monday night, and the normal traffic snarls are few and far between. They're at the terminal nearly half an hour before he expected. The barely-there sunlight makes the blue sections of the buildings look pale and washed out. "I can park and walk in with you, if you want," he offers, idling at the curb. "This is probably the only time I'll find a spot in the lot here."

"I do want, but really, you don't have to. It's fine." Gretta reaches over and strokes a hand over his cheek. "It's not goodbye, Dan. I promised Violet I'd fly over for her graduation, if not before."

Dan catches her wrist, and presses a kiss to her palm. "I know, babe."

"I left you a thumb drive by your laptop." Gretta smiles, a little watery, and Dan feels an answering twinge in his chest. She leans in to kiss him. Then she gets out of the Jaguar, wiping at her eyes as Dan gets her bag and guitar from the trunk. 

They look at each other for a long moment. Dan thinks of the last time he thought they were saying goodbye, and gently pulls Gretta close, careful of her guitar. "Don't stop performing when you go back to school," he whispers in her ear. "And remember: cardigans."

That makes her laugh, just a little, and she squeezes his hand tightly before turning to stride through the sliding doors of the terminal. 

He drives home with the radio off, not because he couldn't use the distraction but because he doesn't think he can stand to listen to music for the next little while. "Audiobooks," he whispers to himself as he circles back out of the airport traffic. "Maybe I'll take up audiobooks."

Stopped at a light, he checks his phone. In a group text, both Miriam and Violet have sent _:(_

 _:(_ , Dan replies, before he puts the phone down again. 

When he gets to the house, Violet's left for school, and he can hear the shower running upstairs. Sure enough, there's a small red and silver thumb drive tucked next to his laptop on the coffee table. He gets a cup of coffee, then wakes the machine and plugs it in. In a folder marked "To Dan", there's a text file and an mp3. 

_Dan -_

_It would be impossible to deny that we didn't both know how this was always going to end: me going home. Visas run out, after all. But I don't remember ever thanking you for convincing me to stay in the first place. Let this song be my thank-you gift to you. Do with it what you like._

_Love always,_  
_G_

Dan plugs one of the many pairs of earbuds that are always left lying around into the port and tucks them into his ears. Then he opens the mp3. 

_Starting,_  
_starting is the hardest part,_  
_when you've got no place to start,_  
_Running in a lover's race,_  
_Trampling over my own heart,_  
_No set course, no starting gun,_  
_no distant finish line,_  
_Just endless road and me,_  
_swearing that I'm fine._

 _Sunny summer mornings in,_  
_a city by the sea,_  
_Gave way to rain-soaked stormclouds,_  
_that I carried along with me,_  
_A storm of my own making,_  
_I just had to say goodbye,_  
_Find those sunny days again,_  
_and let my fool tears dry._

 _Oh, even with all my sadness,_  
_and even with my goodbyes,_  
_I wouldn't trade a minute 'cause -_  
_it was / it was / it was_  
_it was a very good year_  
_a very good year,_  
_a very good year,_  
_a very good year._

**Author's Note:**

> It only took me 3+ years to finish this!


End file.
